


The Itsy Bitsy Spider

by Rookblonkorules



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Elflings, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Spiders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:48:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25269364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rookblonkorules/pseuds/Rookblonkorules
Summary: There's a spider loose in Imladris.Thank goodness Glorfindel knows what to do about it.
Relationships: Erestor & Glorfindel (Tolkien), Legolas Greenleaf & Glorfindel
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	The Itsy Bitsy Spider

**Author's Note:**

> Something that was written a good while back for one of my best friends.

“Glorfindel! Look out!”

At the sound of the shout, the startled elf-lord spun around just in time to witness the golden-haired elf child bring a rolled scroll upon the wall with all the ferocity of a seasoned warrior.

_ Thwack! _

Glorfindel arched one eyebrow as the tiny black speck fell from the wall to the floor.

“By the Valar, child, what in Arda do you think you are doing?”

“It was a spider, Glorfindel!” The elfling’s eyes were wide and earnest. He still held the rolled up scroll, brandishing it as if it were a sword. “It could have eaten you!”

Glorfindel thought it might be best if he relinquished the child of his weapon (after all, who knew what mischief the little prince would soon find himself in if he did not?) but for now, he settled for letting Legolas finish explaining himself. 

“But I saved you!”

With that, Legolas swung his “sword” with childish bravado, no doubt imagining himself pitted against a dozen deadly foes, a battle from which he was sure to emerge victorious.

Glorfindel reached down, sweeping the Elfling up into his arms. “I have no doubt that you did,” he told him soothingly. He reached for the scroll. “Now, let me see this before you hurt someone.”

It was a scroll. In theory, there  _ should _ be no possibility of it hurting anyone, but he had long ago learned not to take chances with this particular elfling.

Legolas only clutched it tighter to his small chest. “But I might need it,” he whispered. “What if another spider comes?”

“There are no more spiders,” Glorfindel assured him. Inwardly, however, he winced. He had no way of guaranteeing that there were no more spiders (and he would hate to be accused of breaking the child’s faith), but perhaps he could explain to the Mirkwood child that there were no  _ dangerous  _ spiders in Imladris. 

Though that would be a task best accomplished after he had confiscated the Elfling’s makeshift “weapon.” 

“What are you doing with this,  _ tithen pen?” _ he asked. He tickled the child under his armpits, and Legolas curled in on himself, giggling uncontrollably. Glorfindel used the distraction as an opportunity to pluck the makeshift “weapon” from his tiny hands. “Will Erestor be missing this, Legolas?” 

“Oh no,” Legolas managed in between giggles. “He gave… it… to me.” He broke off, falling into another fit of laughter when the tickling did not abate. “Stop it!” he gasped breathlessly. “Glorfindel! Stop!”

“Did he now?” Glorfindel teased. He stopped, but hoisted the youngster higher in his arms. “And why would that be?”

Legolas opened his mouth to answer, but suddenly he gasped in fright, clinging to the older elf tightly, and scrambling higher up to his shoulders.

“Legolas, what…?” He saw no cause for alarm, but couldn’t quite keep the concern from his voice. 

“It lives!” Legolas said in a hushed whisper, his voice containing a mixture of awe and fear. “The spider!”

He pointed with one small finger.

Glorfindel followed his finger with his eyes.

The spider lay on its back in a crumpled heap. 

Glorfindel squinted suspiciously. 

Sure enough, the leg twitched.

Then it twitched again.

Glorfindel was certain that the creature was dead and that it was only the spider’s nervous system shutting down.

The hissing breath that came from the elfling still clinging to Glorfindel for dear life told him that it might be best if he did  _ not _ try to explain. A brave warrior no longer, Legolas tightened his grip on the Elf-Lord almost painfully.

Taking pity on the creature and deciding to put it out of its misery, Glorfindel brought his boot down on the arachnid, crushing it into the ground.

When he lifted his foot, only the smallest of black stains remained as a telltale sign that it had been there.

Glorfindel suspected that the rest of it was likely glued to the sole of his boot, but he did not care about that.

“There,” he announced to the Elfling with a flourish. “It is quite dead. It will not bother you anymore.”

Legolas stared at it, before looking back to Glorfindel. “It did not bite you?” he asked. He kept his voice down, clearly worried. His hands fisted nervously in the portions of the cloak resting on Glorfindel’s shoulders.

“Nay,  _ tithen pen,” _ Glorfindel said gently, hoping to put the young one’s mind at ease. “It did not bite me.” He held one of his hands up for Legolas to see. The skin was smooth and unmarked, unmarred by any spider bite. “And even if it had, it would not have harmed me. This spider posed no danger to either of us.”

“But,” Legolas’s brow crinkled in confusion and he gazed at Glorfindel searchingly, “ _ Ada _ says that all spiders are dangerous.”

Oh, how to explain this one? 

Of course Thranduil would have told his son that. They lived in Mirkwood, where every spider  _ was  _ dangerous.

But he did not want to imply that the lad’s father was mistaken... or worse, lying to him!

“Your  _ Ada _ is a very wise elf,” Glorfindel told him gravely, deciding maybe that was the safest course of action. “But these spiders here in Imladris are very different from the ones you have back in Mirkwood. They do not bite, or, even if they do, their sting is not lethal like the ones in your home.”

Legolas’ face relaxed only slightly, but he still looked troubled. “It could not hurt you?” he asked, as if making sure.

“It could not,” Glorfindel assured him with a fond smile. “But you were very brave, attacking it the way you did, in order to protect me!”

Legolas beamed, squirming in Glorfindel’s arms.

Glorfindel set him down carefully, understanding what it was the elfling wanted.

“ _ Ada  _ says I will make a fine young warrior someday!” Legolas said, puffing his chest out proudly, and ignoring how frightened he had been by the fell beast only moments earlier.

Amused, Glorfindel crouched down so that he was on one knee and better able to look the Elfling in the eye. He placed his great hand on the child’s fragile shoulder. “It is as I said,” he told him seriously, but with a twinkle of merriment in his eyes. “Your  _ Ada  _ is a very wise Elf. I have no doubt that he is right.” He winked, finally allowing himself to grin. “But do not grow up on us too quickly now, Elfling. You get into enough trouble  _ now  _ that I do not like to think about what you would be like when you are grown.”

Legolas drew himself to his full height, holding his head proudly. “You are being silly, Glorfindel!” he told him. “When I am grown, I will be like you!”

So they were to have another Balrog-slayer on their hands, were they?   
Glorfindel, unable to completely conceal his surprise, nearly choked.

“Will you now?” he asked, recovering at least a little bit of his composure.

Legolas looked at him, hurt making itself known across his features. “You do not believe me?” he asked.

Glorfindel’s eyebrows rose neatly and he realized he was treading on very dangerous ground indeed.

“I am flattered, little one,” he told him, honestly. He gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze, then gently prodded him in the chest. “But I think we would all much rather you remained as yourself. And what of your  _ Ada? _ ” He smiled indulgently. “Surely he would be upset if his brave little Prince became as addle-brained as a Noldor lord.”   
The child’s jaw dropped open and, for a moment, he looked troubled. Then, “Maybe  _ Ada _ would not care?” he suggested hopefully.

Then, as Glorfindel was still inventing a proper response to that, his gaze drifted beyond the Elf-Lord.

“Glorfindel,” he said, and he had once again dropped his voice to a near whisper, “are you… are you  _ sure _ the spider could not hurt us?”

Taken aback by the question, Glorfindel nodded, struck by the uncertainty in the child’s tone. “Aye,” he said, “it is as I told you. That spider is not the same as the ones back home. What brings this up, young one?”

“Well…” Legolas still looked unsure, “you  _ said  _ it wasn’t like the bad spiders, but… what if it is?”   
“And how would that be?” 

“Maybe its  _ nana _ sent it here for the summer?” Legolas suggested, in all wide-eyed seriousness.

Glorfindel plucked the elfling off the ground, bouncing him in his arms as he answered. “Nay, I do not think so, Legolas. Why would its  _ nana _ want to send it all the way here, where there is no one to watch it?”   
“Why not?” Legolas persisted. “ _ Ada _ and  _ Nana _ sent  _ me _ here!”

Glorfindel wearily rubbed his brow. Discussing the care of spiders for their littles ones had not been something he had expected to do today. He tried to remember everything he knew about the Mirkwood spiders, but, honestly, the subject had not been one he had devoted much study to. “Ah, but it is different for spiders than it is for elves. The elves and spiders are mortal enemies,” he continued to explain, “so, you see, a spider would wish to keep its young ones as far away from the elves as possible. As elves would wish to keep their elflings as far away from the spiders as possible. Do you see?”

Legolas stared at him, wide-eyed, but he nodded. As a child of Mirkwood, he understood the danger the spiders posed to elves. It was why his father sent out patrols routinely to wipe out any and all of the nests that drew too close to their borders.

By reversing the logic, Glorfindel had made him see why the spiders would not send their young to spend their summers among the elves and- Ai, Valar!- what had the child done to him?

Comparing spiders to elves and vice versa…

Glorfindel shook his head.   
He was not making any sense now. If he had been making any to begin with.

Legolas was still looking at him, with all the innocence and curiosity of youth painted upon his face. “But… what if one did? Just this once? Isn’t that possible, Glorfindel?”

Glorfindel sighed, shutting his eyes, and effectively shutting out the look that he and every grown elf with half a heart was defenseless against.

He hadn’t had his hands this full since before the twins had entered adulthood.

And there had been two of them.

He had forgotten just how persistent elflings could be. 

Once they had an idea in their heads, they never wanted to let it be. Why, he remembered that one time the twins had been convinced that there were dwarves living under one of the many waterfalls in the woods surrounding Imladris. 

That had certainly been an interesting time and the children had very nearly driven poor Erestor mad with their persistence.

“Perhaps,” he said doubtfully. “But it is more likely that it is one of our spiders, Legolas.”   
“Oh.” The child’s face fell somewhat. But then his eyes went wide again as something occurred to him. “But Glorfindel,  _ Ada _ said that all spiders were dangerous! Was he wrong then?”

Glorfindel could have groaned aloud. He hadn’t wanted to lead the child to that conclusion, but it would have seemed that he had inadvertently done so anyways.

He shook his head. “Nay, child,” he said. Before he could continue, Legolas’ face crinkled in confusion. 

“But you said…”   
“Ai, Elbereth!” Glorfindel exclaimed, startling the child. “I know what I said!”   
He instantly regretted it, upon seeing the elfling’s face and sighed. “Come now,” he said, hoisting Legolas a little higher in his arms. “Why don’t we go seek out, Erestor? Perhaps he can answer all your questions about the spiders.”

“Really?” Legolas kicked his legs, squirming again in the other elf’s arms. Glorfindel complied, setting him on the ground.

“Really.” Glorfindel couldn’t help his mischievous grin. He imagined Erestor might be quite dismayed to suddenly be the recipient of the elfling’s growing volume of inquiries. “I promise you, he knows a lot more on the subject than I do.”

Legolas snatched up Glorfindel’s hand, dragging him along behind him.

“Erestor!” Legolas called out, catching sight of the dark-haired elf as he made his way down the hall. Judging by the tomes held in his hands, he had been making his way to the library. “We were just looking for you! And see! We have found you! You are not very good at hiding.”

“I see that is something I will have to work on then,” Erestor said solemnly. He tilted his head curiously to the side. “But I imagine there was a reason you were seeking me out, is there not?”

Legolas nodded eagerly. “There was a spider! And Glorfindel said you would know more about it than he!”

“Did he?” Erestor’s eyebrows rose fractionally, his eyes shifting in Glorfindel’s direction. The smile he bestowed upon the elfling was nothing but indulgent, but his eyes, fixed upon Glorfindel, were dark with suspicion.

Glorfindel smiled innocently and shrugged as best he could with one hand still trapped in the elfling’s firm grip. 

“And where would this spider be now? I trust you did not bring it with you?”   
“As a matter of fact… we did. It is on the bottom of my boot,” Glorfindel told him with perfect composure. He couldn’t help the smirk that came as he raised his foot a few inches off the floor. “Perhaps you would like to have a look, Erestor?” he suggested. “I’m sure there is a lot more you could tell us.”

Erestor eyed Glorfindel’s boot with what could only be distaste. “I have no desire to examine the bottoms of your boots, Glorfindel.”

Glorfindel grinned easily, resting his foot on the floor once more. 

He’d had no doubt that the advisor wouldn’t take so much as a glance at the bottom of his boot, but that didn’t stop him from teasing the other elf.

Legolas dropped Glorfindel’s hand, hurrying to the other elf’s side. “But how are you supposed to know than if you don’t see it?” he asked.

“An excellent question,” Glorfindel interjected. “But I am sure that Erestor has a wealth of knowledge to share with you.”

When the elfling turned his wide eyes back to Glorfindel, the elf cinched the deal with a wink. “With pictures.”

“Really?”

Erestor shot Glorfindel a look that clearly stated he held the Balrog-slayer responsible for his current predicament. 

Glorfindel didn’t care.

He knew just as well as Erestor did that the other elf would never disappoint the child.

Erestor nodded slowly. He kept his eyes on the elfling, though Glorfindel noted a sly glance in his direction. “Yes,” he answered. “And perhaps once we’re done with that, Glorfindel will teach you how to slay them.”

“Really?!”

If possible, the elfling’s eyes got even bigger.

Glorfindel sighed, suddenly not as eager. “And when Thranduil learns that we have been training his son to fight without his knowledge, mellon nin?”

“Ah, but there is no ‘we’ here, Glorfindel.”

Glorfindel was sure it mattered not. When Thranduil found out, he was likely to hold all of Imladris responsible.

He carefully refrained from saying any of that in front of the elfling, however, knowing very well it was Legolas’ father they were discussing.

And regardless, the “plan” had already been mentioned in Legolas’ hearing.

It was as good as carried out now. 

Erestor seemed to be able to read his thoughts anyways.

He nodded his head at the scroll Glorfindel was still holding. “You already hold his weapon there. I’m certain you could teach him to wield it a bit more properly.”

Glorfindel glanced down at the tightly wrapped scroll he still held in his hands. Slowly, he smiled, nodding his head in concession of a victory.

“What do you think, Legolas?” He tilted his head downward. “Would you like to learn to fight with a scroll?”

Legolas frowned, his bottom lip sticking out. “I wanted to learn with a  _ real _ sword,” he said. “Or a bow?” he added hopefully. “Like  _ Ada’s _ archers?”

Glorfindel laughed. “Not yet, elfling,” he said. He waved his hand in Erestor’s direction. “Now shoo! Off with you! And once Erestor has finished with your spider lessons, we’ll see what we can do with this scroll.” He gave the elfling’s shoulder a small squeeze. “You will be a proper warrior before you know it.”


End file.
